Once More With Feeling
by LeCartelXIII
Summary: Nobodies, throughout their existence, strive to obtain hearts. But can they really handle the pressure of having one? Character Study.


**Title: Once More, With Feeling  
****Author**: Cali  
**Warnings**: Hrm... not much to warn about in this one. Slight spoilers for KH II if you don't know Roxas's story. Serious, Angst.  
**Pairings:** None. Well there's a reference to one if you squint a lot.  
**Disclaimer:** KH story, characters, and themes do not belong to me and never will. I'm merely borrowing the characters for a bit.

**Once More, With Feeling**

He's halfway through the night before he realizes he isn't sleeping anymore.

At first he thinks it's a dream because he's tearing through the ice of the night air, tearing through the darkness and the sand that's crumbling away beneath his feet. He's gasping for breath and choking on it and yet still driving onward because there's this terrible urge, this _need _to keep moving, to escape, to run, to reach--

And it's all so alien and not _his_, these feelings raging through him, even though that's _him_ running, _him _choking, _him _outside and not in bed where he should be and what's going _on?_

But it's not a dream.

He realizes this as he collapses by the tree. He knows this as the sand digs harshly into his bare knees and the pajama shorts aren't enough to keep him warm against the unfeeling roar of the sudden wind. He's awake and he's not dreaming and he can feel, even though it's not him he's not in control this isn't his will and he doesn't know what...

He's crying.

There are tears on his face, aren't there? And the choking, the tightness in his chest isn't all from the run, the loss of breath. It's not because he's out of shape or anything because he knows he's not. He knows his body, even if it does weird things like waking him up in the middle of the night for a moonlight jog across the sand in only his pajama shorts. And even though he's really crying now, choking around the dry sobs that are heaving up like frothing waves in his chest, his arms wrapped so tightly around himself he can feel the skin bruising, he's relatively calm.

He's locked away somewhere inside himself and just a spectator right now, watching his body move without him, feeling _his _heart contract and beat and _feel_ and _hurt _with emotions that aren't his.

The sobbing continues for a while.

Sora can only wait. And he does, curiously, confused; he waits for some sort of resolution, an explanation of what--? And he wonders, then almost expects Kairi or Riku to suddenly be there, just as confused as he is, trying to figure out what was wrong so they could take him home.

The three of them were always in tune like that. So it wouldn't be surprising for one of them to show up, despite the time of night-- for Riku to roll his eyes or Kairi to hold out her hand worriedly. They _should _be there, if they felt him feeling like this...

If they felt _him _feeling like this.

Only _he _didn't. Not really.

He's not sure when, exactly, the tears stop, but when they do it's sudden, like shutting off a faucet. And the storm of pain in his chest is receding, collecting itself, drawing back into that darker corner. It's as if the dam that had broken earlier tonight had finally relieved enough pressure to begin being rebuilt. And Sora can feel it building up again, brick by resigned brick, shaky but determined. The wall is rising and cutting him off and going back to normal and suddenly Sora realizes he doesn't _want _this, doesn't want it at all.

"Stop." He pleads to the night air, and for a wonder the building does stop, the mason looking up with surprise behind his mortar and cement.

"Stop," he repeats again. "Please. It's okay. You can cry. It's okay to cry."

The hesitation is so poignant Sora can almost taste it, like copper and stone. But there is a flash of-- what? Not hatred, not even anger, but irritation? Shame? No, deeper, and not at Sora, at something else. The wall is building again and Sora grits his teeth.

"STOP!" His hand is at his chest, at his heart. "It'll only hurt more that way!"

Confusion. The wall stops short of completion, just enough for Sora to see the light through the cracks. He knows this is his chance, and he talks quickly. "I know it can hurt. Well I don't _know _but I can understand... you can't block it off. You can't ignore it. If you do that, it'll just build and hurt and then..."

Sora looks down to the unforgiving sand beneath his other hand, feels the hard bark of the tree against his back. It's still cold. "...Explode," he finishes softly.

There's that sharp... _feeling _again. The not-quite-irritation, the pained... _something._ It never hurt like _this_ before, and dammit, why now?

"That's because..." Sora takes in a breath. "Because you couldn't _feel _it before."

Silence. Of course there's silence. Sora's talking to himself, isn't he? But the wall still has its cracks, and this gives him hope enough to continue. He can ignore the wind and the urge to find his warm bed, ignore it just long enough to explain. He lifts his hand carefully, wiping it off on his pajama bottoms and feeling the grains of sand tumble down his leg.

"You couldn't feel it before, but you do now. And all of it at once is... a lot, right? Hard to handle. Not that you can't handle it... you _can._ We all do. It's what having a heart is all about, I guess. You just have to learn how... You have to know how to release the bad parts, the..."

What is it that he can still feel, even though it isn't _him _feeling? Oh...

"The _loss. _Right?"

There's no answer again, not that there ever was. But the wall's cracks are slowly getting bigger, carving farther and deeper, revealing more. Sora doesn't know why he feels so sad or what he has lost, or why that something was so important to him that he has tried to bottle it up so tightly all this time. Why it hurts so _badly _because it's never been let out before, never had a chance to ease the pressure behind that terrible wall and has just being _growing_...

Sora closes his eyes. "You have to release the bad stuff somehow, okay? Or it will never stop hurting. So if you want to cry... Cry. It helps, trust me. You could..."

But Roxas doesn't let him finish and Sora can feel the tears sweeping over him again. But it's different this time, not so harsh, not so hated. It's a release, and it feels _better_, lighter somehow. The first Roxas has ever gotten.

So Sora leans back against the tree and lets Roxas use his eyes, just this once, because Roxas needs them more than _he_ does right now. He's still learning how to feel, how to handle it, and that's okay.

Having a heart was hard sometimes.


End file.
